


eggs-cuse me, you are eggs-actly my type

by sseagully



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Advent Calendar, Christmas Party, Developing Relationship, Drunken Flirting, Eggnog, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Holidays, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Identity Reveal, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Underage Drinking, spiked drinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sseagully/pseuds/sseagully
Summary: After three years of unrequited love, Marinette Dupain-Cheng knows better than to expect anything to change at this point.But perhaps a little bit of Christmas spirit, as well as a healthy dose of spirits in her eggnog, will help trigger a miraculous revival of her long lost hope and give her the courage to go after her heart.-Awkward pining, drunk shenanigans, identity reveal, a love confession - oh my!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 51
Kudos: 120
Collections: December 2020 - Advent Calendar





	eggs-cuse me, you are eggs-actly my type

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Miraculous Fanworks Discord Server event for December - Advent Calendar!
> 
> My theme was: Spiked Eggnog
> 
> \--
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: the characters from the show are aged up by about 3 years, making them 17. According to my research, the legal drinking age in France is 18, so yes, they are drinking underaged. Another important thing to call out is that Marinette and Adrien do not knowingly consent to drinking alcohol in this fic, they are unaware the eggnog contains whiskey. Please take care of yourselves, if any of this is triggering to you. <3
> 
> Okay! That all being said -- let's do this!

It all started because of Rachelle Lavigne and that damn flask of whiskey she always snuck into parties. 

Look, Nora was all for having a good time and cutting loose occasionally, so long as it was safely monitored and everyone knew what they were getting into. That had actually been the reason she volunteered to host this year’s holiday party in the first place; in doing so, she secured final say in the guest list, the location, and all of the refreshments. A recipe for a perfect evening — or so she had thought.

But then... enter Rachelle.

“Why are you even friends with that girl?” Alya asked with a bit too much judgment for Nora’s liking.

“Are you really going to comment on _other_ people’s friends right now, little sis?” Nora gestured at the disaster unfolding on the sofa, brow raised.

Alya winced. 

“Marinette, I would marry the heck out of you,” a very drunk Adrien Agreste slurred, face mostly buried in the sofa cushions.

“Mm, not if I marry you first,” Marinette said as she bolted upright, a competitive look on her flushed face. The sudden movement did not seem to agree with her, as she immediately brought a hand to her forehead and briefly went cross-eyed.

“That sounds so nice,” Adrien cried dreamily into his pillow.

“Yeah well, _your face_ is nice!” Marinette argued. 

Adrien began murmuring compliments about Marinette’s hair while affectionately petting the pillow, while the owner of said hair hiccuped and sat blinking blearily at the wall.

“I swear I told them to avoid the eggnog,” Alya said with a sigh. She crossed her arms defensively and leveled an unimpressed look at her two friends who were somehow flirting aggressively with each other while facing completely different directions. It could almost be labeled cute, if it weren’t so bizarre. “Idiots must have been too busy making googly-eyes earlier to listen to rule number four.”

“Alya, I really, really don’t care right now. Just,” Nora groaned. “Just get them out of here. Preferably _before_ someone recognizes Mr. Teen Heartthrob and starts live tweeting this shit, _please._ ”

Sheepishly acknowledging her point, Alya went to grab Nino away from where he was sneakily messing with Nora’s Spotify playlist. She was pretty sure she was going to need some help. 

* * *

**.: 2 hours ago :.**

“Are you sure Nora is going to be okay with us crashing?” Nino asked Alya for the fifth time that evening. The four friends had just gotten off the elevator, eyeing each door in the hallway carefully to try and locate the right one. They pulled up in front of a plain blue door, number 207, and could hear loud chatter and the low murmur of music playing coming through the walls.

“Why, Nino.” Alya grinned, her smokey eye make-up and dark red lipstick giving her a festive, yet foxy, appearance. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my sister.”

Nino cut her a flat look. “Babe. She’s a professional bodybuilder and kickboxer — and I’m no idiot. I’m not afraid, I’m terrified.”

Alya let out a loud cackle and yanked at his arm, pulling him closer to her level so she could smack a big kiss on his cheek. Her hand went up to his head, which bore a dark green beanie in place of his normal red cap, and gave it a rough pat. “You are so cute.”

Marinette giggled at the picture they made: Alya in her obnoxious ugly Christmas sweater but killing it with the make-up, and Nino with his nicer beanie and checkered button-up. They were a bit of a mismatch style-wise, but seemed so perfect together in every other way that the discordant outfits almost seemed avant-garde. 

Marinette herself wore a cream colored turtle-neck sweater with long sleeves that flared slightly at her wrists, paired with black tights and knee-high boots. Her hair was down for once, adorned with a simple but sparkly silver headband. She fiddled with the headband, sweeping her dark locks over her shoulder and wondering idly if she actually looked okay — 

“You look really great tonight, Marinette.”

Jumping slightly, Marinette spun around to face Adrien Agreste, whom she had been studiously avoiding looking at too much on the ride over. 

He was always drop dead gorgeous in her eyes, but tonight — dressed in a crisp white button up, a dove grey vest, and a skinny black tie with fairy lights on it? Dark blue skinny jeans paired with shiny dress shoes, hair ruffled artfully? — _tonight_ , looking at him, Marinette felt fourteen all over again. 

Tongue-tied and panicked and fluttery all over. Heartsick and heartwarm. She was already stupid over this boy. How dare he remind her of that by looking better than ever! It was honestly just unnecessary, and frankly downright aggressive of him, to be this attractive.

Currently-seventeen-year-old-Marinette did her best to force that old nostalgic panic back down to the deep dark place it belonged. She had made significant progress in her ability to handle her debilitating crush on Adrien since lyceé, thank you very much, and tonight was not the night for backsliding — no matter how stupidly good Adrien Agreste and his stupid face looked. 

“That’s sweet, Adrien,” she said, tone close enough to normal that she mentally patted herself on the back. “Thank you. You look pretty dashing yourself!”

For a boy who had truly grown into the height and stature of a man, he sure could still pull off the boyish, adorable look. His head ducked down slightly while a hand went up to rub at the back of his neck. “Thanks, Marinette. That means a lot coming from you.”

“M-me?” 

Adrien’s eyes widened. “I — ah, you know, as a designer?” He let out a stilted chuckle. “Because you are, um, so good with clothes? You know?”

Oh, well, duh. Marinette smiled a bit wryly at herself. What else had she honestly been expecting?

“So I’m ‘good with clothes?’” she asked in amusement.

In the dim lights of the hallway and behind the lens of her wishful heart, it almost looked like Adrien was blushing a bit. “You’re pretty much a pro,” he agreed.

“A pro, huh?” She walked a slow circle around him, taking in every detail of his ensemble. He grinned and struck a pose obligingly. Far from being ridiculous or silly, he looked every inch the model from those pin-ups she used to have on her bedroom wall. After a long moment, she came to rest back in front of him, tapping her chin in thought for show. “Hmm.”

“So? What’s the verdict?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s quite up to Marinette Dupain-Cheng standards.” She pretended to inspect her nails. “But I _suppose_ it’s adequate.” 

She paused haughtily. “For an Agreste outfit, that is.”

There was a split second right as Adrien’s jaw dropped that Marinette feared she had miscalculated horribly, terribly, beyond the pale. But then —

Then Adrien laughed. No, not laughed. Cracked up and broke to pieces. In that moment, everything about him shined and glittered in the cheap fluorescent lighting; he was the literal essence of radiant, carefree, and yes, _dreamy_. 

“I have never,” Adrien gasped, “laughed so — so —” he wheezed, “so hard in my entire life!” He wiped roughly at his cheeks, catching a few stray tears, and Marinette’s heart squeezed in her chest as she thought, _No, let me do that, please?_

“Man, you sounded just like my father,” Adrien said once he had regained most of his breath. “But you were also _ragging_ on him and just — wow. You’re amazing, Marinette.”

Lungs tightening and face hot, Marinette could only smile in reply. A smile so big, it nearly hurt her face. Adrien returned it without hesitation, his gaze adopting a curious glint she’d been seeing more and more recently when he looked at her. It was like he was inviting her to share in a private joke just between the two of them — but what that joke might be, Marinette was so far clueless. 

“Excuse me, am I interrupting you two?” Alya cut in with a wicked smirk. She performed an exaggerated waving motion. “Hello? Adrien, Marinette? Can either of you even see me over here with all those sparkles in your eyes?”

They both choked.

“Wha— come on, Alya —”

“ _Sparkles_ , what are you talking about —”

Adrien and Marinette petered off slowly as Alya and Nino continued to stare them down, eyebrows raised. Heart pounding, Marinette chanced a quick glance at Adrien, trying to sneakily gauge his reaction. The moment her eyes swiped to the side, she met his own inquiring gaze, a jolt of _something_ running down the length of her spine as they connected.

A throat cleared obnoxiously.

Adrien jumped and rushed to throw an arm around Nino. “So are we going in or what?” he asked loudly.

Alya tossed a knowing look Marinette’s way, then finally showed some mercy and moved the conversation along. “Sure, Sunshine. Before we do, though, let’s go over the house rules. First — a lot of Nora’s friends share her passion for fighting, so you may get challenged to arm wrestle. For the love of all things Ladybug, do _not_ take them up on it. You _will_ lose, you _will_ get hurt, and I so do not intend to go to the hospital tonight. Second — buddy system is best system. Okay? Let’s try not to get too separated here. All of Nora’s friends are pretty cool, but sometimes they bring guests or friends of friends, so even Nora probably doesn’t know all the people in attendance. Me and Nino are a pair, obviously. That leaves Marinette and Adrien to pair up. Got it?”

“That works,” Adrien agreed easily, before Marinette could even fully wrap her brain around the idea.

“Third — Nora is very particular about her tunes. Lahiffe, I’m looking at you. Do not touch her playlist. I swear I will leave you to the mercy of my sister if she catches you, boyfriend or nah. Fourth —”

As Alya continued on, a soft nudge against Marinette’s right hand pulled her attention away. Adrien’s broad, warm palm slid along hers as his fingers wrapped around and squeezed playfully in a heart-stopping maneuver.

 _Buddies?_ he mouthed with a wink when she looked over, flushed and surprised.

“— so it’s best to avoid it completely, alright?” Alya glared. “Hey, are you two listening?”

“Yes,” Marinette squeaked. “Listening. Very much. Lots of listening.”

“So much listening,” Adrien agreed. He didn’t let go of her hand. “Completely avoid it. Got it!”

Leveling them with one last suspicious stare, Alya whirled back around with a huff, fishing out the set of keys she apparently had to her sister’s apartment. As the door opened, a wave of chatter and music rushed at them, bringing them fully into the party atmosphere. People filled the entire apartment, nursing drinks and conversing in groups; a small section of space on the opposite side of the room seemed to be reserved for a few couples dancing. While it wasn’t quite wall-to-wall crowded, it was certainly the largest party Marinette had been to in a long time, and the thought of it nearly made her head spin. 

She hesitated in the doorway.

Adrien tugged slightly at her hand, a gentle question; Marinette took a deep, steadying breath and followed his lead. Alya dragged Nino into an immediate beeline for Nora who, despite being surrounded by adult peers around her age, still stood a head above the crowd. 

Suddenly left to their own devices, their hands fell apart naturally as they swapped a bashful look. A strange bubbliness filled Marinette from head to toe. She wasn’t going crazy, right? She wasn’t just dreaming that there was something in the air tonight that hadn’t been there before? Something new and fresh and… and possibly wonderful?

“I think I need a drink,” she said faintly. The buzz of the room made it hard for her to hear herself think.

And apparently for Adrien to hear her as well. “What?”

Marinette popped up on her tiptoes and Adrien accordingly bent lower to meet her halfway. With his head closer to hers, she caught a hint of his clean scent combined with the deep notes of whatever (probably expensive) cologne he was wearing. Briefly, she imagined what it would be like to follow that scent and tuck her head into the strong curve of his neck and shoulder, where she suspected she might fit perfectly.

 _No, Marinette. Stop. Focus!_ “I said, I think I need a drink,” she repeated in his ear. 

Adrien nodded eagerly and dorkily gave two thumbs-up in response. He used his superior height to zero in on the refreshments table while Marinette followed right behind him. The table was set up against the living room wall closest to the kitchen, decorated only by a cheap plastic cover littered with snowmen. Snacks were placed haphazardly on the right hand side and beverages were on the left. 

“So… Are you going to be drinking _drinking_ tonight?” Marinette asked nervously. She herself hadn’t planned on partaking but she knew Nino and Alya were planning to at least try one alcoholic drink each. If Adrien followed along, that would be _three_ friends she’d potentially have to watch out for tonight. Doable, but certainly cause for more vigilance.

Adrien made a face, a weird mix of amused and horrified. “Are you kidding me? If I went home drunk, I’d be toast. Never to be seen again. RIP, here lies Adrien Agreste.”

Marinette considered that, briefly imagining a drunk Adrien bumping into Nathalie or even his father. It took all her strength not to flinch outwardly. “Ah. Okay, point taken. No alcohol for either of us, then.” 

She grabbed two red solo cups, handing one to Adrien. They began to browse their options. There was a messy row of bottles of varying shapes and sizes, various spirits and liquors, lining the back of the table. A few soda bottles were mixed in as well, but most were empty, probably used as mixers earlier in the evening. The only other thing on the table was a big bowl filled with what looked like eggnog.

“We’re kind of strapped for choices,” Marinette said, laughing a bit. “Guess it’s between water or eggnog. Any preference?”

Adrien’s verdant gaze suddenly lit up, his posture straightening in pure excitement. Marinette took a small moment to admire his bright disposition, how he was always so expressive with his joy and good humor -- from the widening of his eyes to the eager pull of his lips to the intent line of his neck. That was probably what made him such a talented model, she mused, his effortless ability to convey pure emotion and light through his body language alone. 

“Wow, someone looks excited,” she teased. “Big fan of eggnog, are you?”

“I’ve never actually tried it,” Adrien admitted with a smile. “My father’s not really the festive type. Plus, it’s got a lot of calories. My nutritionist would probably freak if I even suggested a taste.”

The wistfulness in his voice suddenly made Marinette itching to buy all the eggnog in the world and give it to him. All of it. Right now. Right this very second.

“Here!” She lunged for the ladle, adding several generous spoonfuls to his cup. She knew she probably looked like a madwoman with how desperate she was to pour him a drink, but it was hard to care about that when he looked like she had just handed him the literal stars, gift-wrapped and tagged with his name.

Filling her own cup, she moved to gently bump the rim against his in a careful salutation. “C’mon, let’s drink up!”

“Cheers!” Adrien cried, taking a healthy sip with vigor. The eggnog was smooth but not too thick, sweet but with a kick. It went down easy, a nice festive flavor that settled a tingling warmth in the pit of Marinette’s stomach. Delicious.

Adrien appeared to be in complete agreement. 

“Oh sweet camembert,” he sighed happily as he licked his lips.

Marinette’s brain stopped working at that point, but managed to sputter back to life just in time to catch — 

“Did you just say camembert?” she asked, absolutely astonished.

“No,” Adrien said, eyes glancing away and down. His dark lashes trembled for a moment against his cheeks. “I said… sweet canon bears.”

“... what?”

“Oh sweet caramels?” he tried.

Marinette squinted at him suspiciously. “Are you just messing with me right now?”

“Yeeees?” Adrien said, sounding utterly unconvincing. He hurriedly bumped his cup back against hers and took one big gulp, then another. Beyond bewildered, she followed suit, choosing to let the odd moment pass and instead focus on the eggnog’s warm holiday cheer slowly sliding through her body with every sip.

“Man, this stuff really is good,” Marinette said. But wow, she thought at the same time, the crowd of people in here was really driving the temperature up. She felt her face grow steadily warmer and warmer, and began to deeply regret her choice to wear a turtle-neck sweater.

“Yeah.” Adrien grinned mischievously and flicked his hand, showing off his empty cup. “In fact, I think it’s time for a refill.”

“Already? You liked it that much?”

“It’s delicious,” he said with a shrug. “And so unlike the drinks I normally get to have! Eggnog could almost be liquid-dessert, as far as I’m concerned.”

Adrien paused, then muttered, "In fact, one could say it's _egg_ -cellent."

Had. Had that been a pun? Marinette stopped, then shook her head. Nah, there was no way. There was only one person in her life who could pun so horribly and without remorse, and it was not her Adrien. 

They edged closer to the refreshments table, waiting patiently behind some other party-goers stopped there. While they waited, Marinette took another long drink of her own eggnog and internally agreed that she could probably do another round herself. The stuff was addicting and the room was only getting hotter.

Refills acquired, they strategically moved to some open space closer to the couch, jokingly narrating the conversation between two women who were seated there, whom they both agreed looked like they might get up soon.

“Five euros says they get up to go to the refreshments table soon,” Adrien said. As before, he had to stoop a bit for them to properly communicate without shouting. Marinette would have worried for the state of his back if she wasn’t so busy having heart palpitations each time they had to lean so close.

Marinette scoffed. “No way. When they get up, it’s going to be so they can dance.”

“Oh? What makes you so sure?”

“Please, she is _so_ making heart eyes at her friend. And look how flustered she is! She’s blushing a bit, her hands are flying all over the place as she babbles, she keeps looking away nervously. All classic signs of a crush!”

Tilting his head consideringly, Adrien watched the couple a few seconds more. “Wow. You’re totally right. I never would have noticed.”

Marinette basked in the glory and pleasure of being right.

“You know,” Adrien said thoughtfully with a teasing grin, “she actually kind of reminds me of how you were, back when we first met.” He laughed, oblivious to the fact that the klaxon alarms in Marinette’s head had just gone off in full mind-breaking force.

“Imagine… that,” Marinette said weakly. “Haha...ha.”

A slow, awful eternity passed as Marinette literally watched Adrien put the pieces together, comprehension dawning on his beautiful, award-winning face.

“Wait,” Adrien said. “Waitwait _wait_.”

And for all the growing up Marinette had done over the last three years, nothing in the world, not even Hawkmoth in a tutu on a banana boat, could have stopped her from running away in the face of this moment.

“Eggnog!!” she yelped, as an exclamation or an explanation. Who could know for sure? “I get! Keep our spot please? Okaythanksbye!”

“Wha - _Marinette_!”

**Author's Note:**

> Part II to come shortly. 
> 
> All other WIPs are slowly being worked on, I'm sorry for the delay. I also have some long outstanding comments on other stories I need to address, which I apologize for. Real life and personal issues have come up in the last few months that have made me prioritize my time a bit differently. 
> 
> I am hoping that all of you reading this are safe and sound and healthy. 
> 
> If you feel so inclined to chat about this story or other MLB goodness with me and friends, please consider joining our [discord server!](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks)


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